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Kenny didn’t answer right away. Instead, there was a soft rustle—his parka shifting as he moved closer, the faint shuffle of his hand-me-down tennis shoes on the floor, the sound of him loosening the drawstrings of his hood, letting it fall easily to his shoulders. Butters could barely focus, the world still spinning in a haze of fevered warmth, but he felt the softness that reached him like a steady pull against the swirling chaos of his mind. When he finally lifted his gaze, there it was. That smile.
"It’s alright, Butters," Kenny said, his voice compassionate, soothing, and full of an affection that made Butters' heart race, though he couldn’t quite understand why. "You’re not feelin’ too good, huh?"
There was no judgment in his voice, no hurry, just a quiet, unspoken understanding. He conveniently ignored the question about school, as if there was no argument about where he should be, no doubt in his mind that Butters needed him here, now.
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Bookmark Notes:
demasiado dulce y empalagoso, quizá mucho incluso para mí. fue una adaptación muy cute de ambos, AMÉ
